Saturday, May 30, 2009

A commercial came on, and I thought, ahhhh, perfect timing! Because, you see, I had to pee. Again.

Only DH had the same thought. So he got up and went towards the bathroom before I could set the laptop down. I sighed. He stopped and I said, "No no, just hurry up, ok?"

He washed his hands and stepped back out, bowed low and gestured to the now empty bathroom. I hopped up, set the laptop down, and Jonah came to investigate this sudden activity. I leapt over him all the while muttering, "Gotta pee, gotte pee, gotta pee, gotta pee!"

As I step into the bathroom and close the door, I hear my DH stage-whisper conspiratorily to Jonah, "Dude, I think she's trying tell us something. But what could it be?"

So Dh and I have what I consider to be a pretty good marriage. We really don't fight much ever, mostly because we are good at reaching compromises and taking turns and acknowledging when one of us really wants something and the other doesn't care as much.

But we both have temper problems and both of us are liable to explode. We've learned pretty well over 3 and a half (plus) years of marriage and another four years of being a couple that blowing up at each other only results in hurt feelings and shouting and nastiness and silent treatments.

But we still blow up over situations (especially when it comes to home repair and decorating) and we've talked about that. It's something we both learned from our fathers, but it's also something that neither of us really wants to put forward in front of our kids. While our fathers didn't scream at us or throw things at us, they did scream at objects and throw them around, and I'm ashamed to say it's the sort of response we both have when we are angry and frustrated. But I've told DH how it makes me feel - how my dad would fume in silence (trying not to unleash his anger at his family) and how we would all tiptoe around him, terrified to upset him or make it worse because while it wasn't directed at us then, we didn't want to focus it on us (again - not that he was ever violent or abusive! Ever.).

I don't want that for our kids. I don't want them to wonder if they did something because they don't understand the frustration involved with car repair or a broken garbage disposal when there isn't money for a plumber. I don't want them to tiptoe around us, afraid of us, or feeling anxious and uneasy.

It's a behavior we want to change. But we sort of suck at it.

Today was a good example. It was stupid - our gate opener isn't working properly. Likely, the battery needs to be replaced, and we haven't got any 9-volts. We'd forgotten to get any when we went to the store, and consequently were having trouble getting in the gate. DH got out of the car to see if it would work closer up, and barring that, to run back and retrieve the other gate opener. While he was trying this, another car pulled up and one of the two of us opened the gate. Being the closer car to the entrance, I turned in first. As I slowed down to cross the bump, DH opened the door unexpectedly to get back in the car. I was trying to get out of the way so the car behind us could get in while the gate was still open, so I was still driving, which meant DH had to quickly shut the door. As soon as I was clear, I stopped so he could get in, but he hadn't understood what was happening, and he was pissed, because he nearly got hurt trying to get in while I was still driving. Instead of getting in, he threw the remote into his seat and started stalking off towards our house. Now I'm pissed off, so I left him, drove up and parked the car. I opened the trunk for him, the gate and the back door so he could unload the groceries and walked inside.

I stayed out of his way until I was calm (and avoided slamming doors and huffing and whatever else I was tempted to do). When the groceries were put away, I went to him and said, "I'm really sorry. I wasn't trying to hurt you or upset you, I was trying to get clear of the gate so the car behind us could get in as well."

And he said, "I know, I saw them just after. I'm really sorry I was an ass. I behaved poorly."

And now it's ok. No sulking, no slamming doors, so throwing produce into the fridge or being angry. Just an acknowledgement that there was a misunderstanding and recognizing where the poor response was.

Friday, May 29, 2009

Astonishing. I had no idea that was even possible. Actually, much of today was better than expected for a long time because there was nothing in my system at all but Sprite. Lunch was sketchy. I did ok with the Easy Mac.

But the burger . . . well. You know how it is when you feel ok, and are eating something and suddenly realize mid-chew that whatever it is you are eating is not going so well? That was the rest of my lunch.

And dinner . . . oh, it's just tragic. Truly, tragic. I had some savory pastries filled with spinach/artichoke/onion/cheese mix. Sounded so divine. Smelled so divine. I actually was really looking forward to it. I thought I'd get some green for the first time in awhile.

And after the fourth bite, I knew. This was not going down without a fight. And it did not stay down.

Vomiting while you are eating dinner is just wrong. I'm sitting here now with a bowl of chicken broth, wondering if I can keep it down. The fact that DH boiled water on a burner that apparently had a spillage last use is arguing 'no' - it's just so . . . mortifying and embarrassing to have such little control and be so reliant on DH to help me and it hurts. Half the time, I just end up curling up and crying after I throw up. I hate being such a baby, but I really, really, really hate vomiting.

I keep trying to tell myself it's great that it's going strong and remaining strong, and this is what I wanted. And part of me believes that. The other part of me is just desperate for it to be over with. Not as in ending the pregnancy - God, I'll put up with hyperemesis if I have to - but just not knowing what's happening in there makes it so much worse to deal with.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

First, I slept pretty well through the night and didn't have to get up to pee until about 5 am. You would think that might not be a bad thing, but it's really not good when you are freaking paranoid like me.

Add to that that the boob soreness has severely decreased, though they are still sore when pressed and seem as large as ever, and you have one crazy lady starting to really freak out over whether or not she is still pregnant.

I know. Symptoms come and go. A lot of women report that the boob soreness tapers off in the first tri. I learned this morning that the insomnia got better for a surprisingly large number of women around 7-8 weeks. But in the midst of panic, it doesn't much matter, you know?

All I could think was that the symptoms also went away with Chickadee, and maybe this is a sign that this pregnancy too is doomed. And then the crazy thoughts really started pouring out. Crazy thoughts like . . . I don't have a firm feeling towards boy or girl so clearly my mother's intuition is picking up that there is no baby. That I was feeling scared and fearful with Chickadee and if I'm feeling that again now, it must mean something is wrong with the little chicken. I had one wild thought (that I quickly dismissed as I would never ever do this) that maybe I could get another u/s if I pretended I had spotting.

It is terrifying and upsetting and I hate it. I don't want to be this way and I don't know how to make it stop. I have every reason to believe things are on course, because things have been so good to this point. Because there was a h/b, which is further than before. Because there are good odds and everything has been good to this point.

And on top of that, I started vomiting while brushing my teeth. It was bad, reach down into your intestine vomiting and whatever I threw up didn't go well with the taste of the toothpaste. And when we left, I remembered that I needed crackers, and we turned around. Two seconds after pulling into our carport, I started vomiting again and that went on for about 15 minutes. And it was terrible.

And the nauseated feelings didn't leave from that, and I felt that way all.freaking.day.long. I dry heaved into the trashcan a few times. I ate saltines. I didn't feel well until about 3 and that lasted for about an hour.

Now, that is very reassuring, but the crazy lady that lives in my head took over and I somehow decided that I might just be psychosomatically inducing this symptom.

So, as you see, I am insane. It's difficult to type through the straitjacket, but I'd do anything for my readers! Seriously though . . . I'm feeling emotionally better/more stable, but as days go, this one was pretty bad. I know there is nothing that will make me more calm but time, and that stressing myself out doesn't help anything. It's just hard right now. I feel like crap and when I don't feel like as much shit as I did a few hours or days ago, it triggers a lot of fear and paranoia. Feeling like shit 24.7 and feeling nauseated 24.7 and the now daily vomiting is taking a real toll on me. And the emotional fragility of my situation is wearing thin as well and combine them like today . . .

. . . and we have a no good, very bad, terribly awful sort of day. I will hope I pee twice tonight and sleep like crap and feel better tomorrow, I guess.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

I really don't have a lot to talk about and I don't want my posts to just be long-winded whinging about how miserable pregnancy is, so I haven't posted much.

It's not to say that pregnancy is totally miserable or that I am, but I'm having a rough time coping with some aspects of it. I feel awful saying that too, because I wanted this so badly and I know at least 20 women off the top of my head who would probably deal with this m/s with a smile the entire time to be where I am right now. If you are one of them, I apologize.

I didn't know that pregnancy fatigue and insomnia were both possible. It's so bizarre. I'm nodding my head by 8:30 and by 10:00, I'm usually in bed. I fall asleep for a couple of hours and then scattered, vivid dreams leave me half-awake. By the time I get up to pee for the night, as I do most every night, sometimes more than once, I can't sleep well again. It leaves me feeling more exhausted than I should. It seems naps are the only way I feel really rested and then only when it's possible to take them - which means sick days and weekends.

The nausea comes and goes, but has been really bad again the last couple of days. Often it's just enough to make me feel icky and turn me off any food that is in reach, at which point it gets worse. My diet is total crap and I know it, but the thoughts of most fruits and vegetables is so gag-inducing, I just can't bring myself to try. I am trying to drink more though, so there is some representation out there. Today, I vomited nothing for 20 minutes. It was awful, my stomach still hurts and blah. I've had a chicken biscuit and some Pringles today (to be fair, I returned to bed for 4.5 hours in there over lunchtime). So very healthy, clearly. I find myself frustrated by it. I don't cope well with nausea. I don't want to make it out like it's worse than it is, but it's by far worse than I've had in any other pregnancy. I know there are people who have tougher times. I'm not even vomiting every day, just wishing I could. But I feel so guilty for not eating well and not exercising (moving around makes the nausea much, much worse). I feel like a fat slob who is using pregnancy as an excuse to eat junk I wasn't really eating before hand and ignoring good, healthy foods and shunning exercise.

I know if I'm being honest that I can't eat much more than I'm eating between textures and smells and immediate gag reactions I can't control. But I guess I should try harder to get more variety in there and be healthier.

There is a lot of guilt right now. I called in sick today. I was in no shape to go in, truly. If I hadn't been pregnant and felt that way, like the second day after a violent food poisoning attack, I would have stayed home, guilt-free. But I fear my boss thinks I'm making excuses and I know it looks bad to call in sick after a holiday weekend, and I know my mediocre performance review is causing some guilt in there too (even though my 'health problems' were not an issue and my boss even commended my focus on work despite them). I think I have a decent enough track record of not calling in when I'm not sick and not calling in around holidays that my boss doesn't think poorly of me, but I still feel guilty.

And I still experience a good amount of fear. It's been almost a week since my u/s and I still have moments of total panicky OMG, is this for real-ness happening. Doing things like buying mat clothes or telling people make me very nervous, but so far, nothing tragic seems to be happening. And having sore boobs and nausea go a long way to reassuring me, but only for a bit. June 19 is my next/first appointment (barring any complications before then), and I'll be between 10 1/2 and 11 weeks, so I think we stand a good chance of hearing the h/b on doppler, though it's not a sure thing. I already know that I will be requesting another u/s if we don't hear it then. That's the only really bad thing about scheduling for a Friday afternoon. If we don't hear a h/b, we aren't likely to be able to get in for an u/s until Monday morning. Sigh. Maybe I should rethink this. But I'm trying to have faith. Easier said than done, but I'm trying.

And . . . that's it really. My life doesn't really revolve much around anything else. There isn't much on tv, I'm nearly through with my new books, I haven't really done anything productive (and have in fact killed about 5 of my pots and will have to repot new flowers, though it may be difficult to get some at this point, as we're heating up) at all. How boring I am!

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Truly, now that I know the little chickie is measuring a wee bit behind (though that can be for many reasons - later implantation, a little bit of slow development, the fact that charting is only scientifically accurate +/- 2 days, the measurement from the u/s has an element of human error to it and is generally considered accurate within 3-4 days, give or take - so I'm not concerned about it at all), I really feel a little silly saying I'm 7 weeks, if the chicken is only six and a half weeks. In the end, I don't think it matters much, and I do think there is a good chance of 'catching up' later on. If the NT scan agrees with the later edd, then I'll relive part of a week, I guess, lol. But for now, we'll continue saying I'm roughly 7 weeks, mmmkay?

Regardless, this is exciting times! So much development is happening right now - the baby should be growing about a full milimeter a day, and the heartbeat should be increasing about 3-4 beats per minute per day. The arms and legs should have started developing, and the eyes should have started, the internal organs should pretty much all be in place within the next week and ears and fingers and toes should be forming. Pretty crazy, huh?

While cramping continues intermittently, usually mild, sometimes sharp, the spotting has gone away (yay!) which was a relief. Even though I knew it was from the u/s, the longer it continued, the more concerned I got. So I was great to see that it was gone by yesterday afternoon.

Beyond that, nausea continues, sometimes crippling, sometimes complete with dry heaving and vomiting, though I'm finding that keeping something in my stomach seems to help tremendously. The problem of course is that I have no desire to eat anything. I was craving mashed potatoes for awhile, but the giant serving last night has killed that craving, I think, lol. The problem is that really, I'm pretty much only eating complex carbs and protein, as they are the only things that remotely appeal to me, with an occasional salad or random vegetable or fruit for fun when I don't feel totally sick. That has led to another pregnancy complaint - constipation.

Ugh. Last time, I was able to continue eating fairly regularly, just had constant nausea. But I was able to continue consuming lovely quantities of fruits and vegetables and fiber one bars and yogurt. Now the texture and/or of these items means I am threatened with vomiting as I am eating them, so I just can't bring myself to do it often. This means my fiber intake has seriously dropped and constipation has been an issue. A couple of times it's been so bad that even the patented Kal's Shit Cocktail hasn't worked for me. That is painful. Fortunately, or not, it seems to run in cycles so that eventually for whatever reason (a sudden increase in fiber or something greasy or disagreeable) I will have some mild diarrhea. The suddenness isn't a lot of fun, but I always feel about 6 pounds lighter afterwards, so meh.

My weight has been returning to the pre-pregnancy range, after jumping up quickly, which is good to see. I know that if I exercised I would probably lose more, which wouldn't be a bad thing since I'm supposed to gain only a minimal amount. However, I am feeling so much more sick when I move about and so exhausted that it has literally been difficult to walk from the office to my car some days without wanting to stop and sit down and take deep breaths. I am sure that will clear up in a couple more weeks and then we'll begin a regular gym program coupled with some yoga at home. Because I know how beneficial exercise is, I will find a way to get it done.

Otherwise, I feel pretty good. Seeing that flicker was so amazing and reassuring. While I still have my moments of fearing that I've bolloxed it all up and jinxed ourselves to high heaven (buying maternity clothes and telling the families has terrified me) . . . I feel really good overall. We have every reason to believe that the little chickie is doing great in there.

Oh and for that ever important question - boy or girl? DH remains firmly convinced the chicken is a hen and I've wavered back and forth. Last week, I thought hen and this week, as I was doodling our chosen names, the boy name just seemed more natural. So I'm leaning more towards rooster this week. I suppose one of us has to be right! Of course, I also suppose I am going to second guess this one a lot.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Harder than I expected. Just like the other times, the euphoria lasted for about a day and then worry creeps back in.

I really thought I'd have a longer reprieve. After reassuring myself that measuring behind wasn't a big deal, given that it was within the margin of error and that even a very teeny amount can make a 2-3 difference at this point, and oh yes, several friends were in the same boat and even a friend on a fully medicated iui cycle measured behind. . . right then. I pushed that away successfully.

I spent a long time staring at the pictures we were given. One in particular gives us a view of both the baby (in between markers) and the yolk sac and there is a bright pixel that is clearly the heartbeat caught at that moment. Another is a picture of the yolk sac for reasons I'm unclear on, and the third is a very blurry gray blob in which I can sort of make out what I think is the baby, but it's very grainy and gray and blobby.

I was doing pretty well. And then I had some spotting. Now, at first, I brushed this off, as it's not uncommon to experience light spotting after a vaginal u/s (and there were a couple of points she was pressing pretty hard against my cervix, like when she asked me to take a deep breath and bear down a little because she couldn't locate my left ovary- ouch). And it was a miniscule amount of medium brown. Later in the day it was light brown. When wiping only, no big deal.

But since it's persisted into the evening - albeit in an even lighter, stained cm sort of way, tannish, really and something I might not exactly notice were I not looking for it - it's getting harder and harder to ignore the fear that is niggling. And the cramping doesn't help. It's actually the same cramping I've been experiencing for a couple of weeks. A sort of sharpish pinching/pulling and stretchy feeling, then it goes away. Off and on at random. Mostly pretty mild (despite my description as sharp). I felt it yesterday with no concern, so why I'm worried now . . . bah.

I really thought that seeing the h/b would release a lot of my anxiety - and it did - but it didn't just go away. In some ways, I feel so much more attached and therefore more anxious over losing our little chicken. I'm sure the fact that we plan to tell the families this weekend (and the fact that just grew into the entire families at family barbecues when I'd anticipated it just being us in a casual conversation) is causing some anxiety as well. Much as I'd looked forward to telling them, I do sort of privately fear that it will jinx things. Much as I know that is not the case, it's not exactly a logical sort of feeling, is it?

I also bought some more maternity clothes. Just like the last batch, they were clothes I would totally wear when not pregnant - just the empire tunic style I prefer - and are cute and on sale . . . having done that makes me feel mildly paranoid, as if I am tempting the gods of fate by my actions.

I know the statistics - that the risk of miscarriage drops to about 5% now, and that with each additional week that passes, it is a good thing, a surer thing. But I also know of at least a couple of people who were on the wrong sides of the statistics. Granted, they both had genetic issues that should normally have ended their pregnancies before they saw heartbeats, but it's hard not to think about that. Long as the three and a half weeks to get to this point have been, the remaining 5 and a half weeks or so to get out of first tri (the four to the next appointment, if I get that scheduled and the maybe of hearing the h/b on doppler, when it might yet be too early), are stretching before me like a gaping hole.

I had some friends recently express concern about my mental state, which was best described as fragile before the u/s. I expressed confidence that my intense level of fear would subside, and they expressed that they hoped I would consider finding a therapist to discuss the fears with and possibly learn some better coping techniques if that were not the case. One friend wisely said to me that the fear never goes away, it just changes shape. There is definitely some truth to that; while some fear is removed - the fear we will have a blighted ovum or an ectopic pregnancy - there are new fears just waiting to spring up and attack me - the fear that the heart will stop beating and that this pregnancy is as doomed as the previous pregnancies.

It takes a great amount of effort and concentration to face these fears, and it feels almost like a battle. But I will not let it win if I can help it. I want the rest of this pregnancy to be as happy as possible and as fear-free as possible. I know that only time will make me wholly comfortable. I look forward to the passage of time with eagerness and trepidation and yet again wish I could fall asleep and be awoken in six week's time to be told how it all went. Sadly, I've learned life doesn't work that way, and I'll have to live through those moments of joy and terror to get there and turn the page myself.

Continued prayers and hopes for our little chicken's safety are much appreciated, as always. I know that I again find myself returning to prayer, foreign as it has become to my tongue. I only hope that my prayers for safe-keeping and health continue to be granted out of a graciousness I know I don't deserve.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

A perfect, flickering little pulse of light that we could both see easily and immediately in our little chicken.

Measuring 6w even, tech said not to be concerned, because the heart rate was a perfect 111 bpm and there was a gorgeous large yolk sac and a beautiful large lovely cyst on my right ovary and it was all perfect.

We are having a hard time not grinning. We have a living baby in there. It's the farthest we've come - we've never seen a h/b before.

I'll probably write much more later, and maybe now I can start putting the letters to the little chickie I've been composing down on paper (as it were), but for now, I'm going to go throw up and take a nap.

Thank you for all the prayers, well wishes, crossed fingers and hopes. We aren't out of the woods yet, but so far, everything is perfect.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

I probably should have saved my post for today, since it's left me with very little to talk about, lol.

I'm feeling pretty good this morning. Although, I'm pondering a very important question. How is it that I produce so much more urine now? I'm drinking a little bit more, as I try to keep well hydrated (and seem thirstier) and I've cut back on caffeine and artificial sweeteners, meaning I drink more real water, but really - it's not an obscene amount or anything. I understand the mechanics of frequent urination - kidneys flushing fluids more quickly to help keep everything clean, growing uterus putting pressure on the bladder, etc. But I am astounded by the amount of pee that resides in my bladder. No wonder I have to pee more. There is a ton of it in there, waiting to come out. It's truly puzzling.

Anyway, today is a gorgeous day and I was forced up early and out into it by DH having to cover a shift in his office, so I took him to work. Wheeeee! I was tired, but now I feel good. I thought briefly about a pedicure, because my heels are nasty and gross, but I made the mistake of stopping at this shopping center that is on the way home. We need a new mattress pad and there happens to be a Bed, Bath and Beyond there. So I priced some out, bought some yummy rose and lavender smelling things and decided to wait on the mattress pad until I could measure the corners again (I can never refold those stupid things to fit back into the packaging if we have to return it).

At first I figured I'd browse around the shopping center - La Madeline is there, and I could pop over to Borders before-hand and pick up a book to read while I ate lunch on the patio or something. And I could browse Target and maybe just while away the hours until I could go pick DH up from work. That was the plan, but I found myself uninterested in browsing BBB. Which is funny, because before we were married, I could waste an afternoon there pawing through the curtains and bedding and mentally updating our registry.

So instead of an hour in there, I was in there for maybe 20 minutes. And I realized . . . Motherhood Maternity is just a quick walk down from there. Now, they do have plus size, and they do fit me (I have a handful of things already courtesy of Ebay), if the sleeves are stretchy or generously cut. I generally think they are overpriced and not the best quality, and I was only in there once during my pregnancy with Chickadee when I scored a new pair of jeans that had been returned for $17. I actually have worn them since then several times (great for Thanksgiving dinner, I might add). I decided to browse. It was a little scary as I don't want to spend money on clothes I won't need. And the u/s is looming Wednesday and I fear bad news and last night's internet search for comfort was a little blood-curdling in that I found a lot of people talking about how they'd seen a heartbeat and later had a missed miscarriage when the baby died shortly after.

But I'm feeling good today, and I am determined to be hopeful and honor the undertone of peace and calmness in this pregnancy. And I need more light shirts because for the life of me I can't find half my summer wardrobe and I'm already hot. So I browse, trying to find stuff that doesn't scream maternity, isn't ugly and isn't overpriced and I did indeed find 2 cute shirts on sale in my size that are similar to things I already wear, so I purchased them. I think the cashier was very confused when she asked if I'd been there before and I said, "Not since my last miscarriage." She just blinked and handed me the free stuff they give first time customers.

That only took about 15 minutes, as their selection in plus size was ridiculously small and half of it wasn't my size anyway (I think I could wear some of the 2x stuff, but I'd rather not chance it and I prefer flowy stuff anyway, which is it's own post as I contemplate my in-between maternity pants because of how bloated I feel). So I still had plenty of time and decided to head over to Borders.

I haven't really browsed a bookstore in awhile with no intentions of buying or anything specific in mind, so this was fun. I vaguely strolled through the bargain area where little caught my eye until I stumbled on Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. Yes, indeed, friends. I snatched it up. I have quite the collection of P&P companion books and spin-offs. I love the quality stuff - and there is some really quality stuff out there - and I'd been told this was a lot of fun. So I picked it up.

Then came the trip to the mystery aisle. I LOVE mystery, suspense and thrillers. I will read nearly anything. But to my wonderous eyes, what should appear? Not one, but TWO new Laurie R. King's - one brand new in one of my favorite series ever, the Russell/Holmes series! and one less new but new to me. Manna from heaven, friends. I've been fretting over being distracted until the u/s and how worked up I could get and I stumble on not one, but THREE new engaging books. And I guarantee they will absorb me.

I then wandered over to the pregnancy aisle, feeling much the same as when I wandered into Motherhood. A little trepidatious, but feeling hopeful. Eh, there isn't much catching my eye, truthfully. I vaguely considered a couple of birthing books I've always wanted to read that aren't always in stock, but I still feel leery of thinking quite that far ahead, and I think my friend has them anyhow. And then I considered a baby name book for reasons that I cannot possibly articulate, given that we have our names for 4 children (of either sex) chosen and I'm still very happy with them. And then my eyes fell on it - a book I'd looked for last time I'd been in this store, which was after the ectopic, on Pregnancy after Loss. It was suddenly there, sitting by itself, in the middle of the baby names books, beckoning me. I grabbed it and again felt - this is right.

Went to the front, chatted with the lovely cashier who was an older British lady with a Jane Austen mania, and who told me I'd love P&P&Z and then made it back to my car to discover I'd wasted not even a full hour. Breakfast was sitting in a lump in my stomach, and I'd already spent far too much money, so I ditched the idea of a pedicure and lunch and came on home.

The day continues to be nice, and there are children enjoy in the pool in our courtyard and I am tempted to follow their lead (though perhaps in the larger, deeper pool on the other side of the complex) with one of my fabulous new books. What a lovely day this has been - a good omen to begin 6 weeks/week 7!

Friday, May 15, 2009

Nothing has really changed. My boobs are still huge and sore much of the time. My nipples are a shocking size. I still have bad nausea, some gagging, but not much real vomiting. Bloat is on its way, and frequent urgent need to pee has shown up, and my skin is crap and my sense of smell is not helping the nearly ever present nausea.

In other words, still pregnant.

In other news, still scared.

Not as frightened as previously and it still feels different than it did with Chickadee, where it was an underlying theme. More and more I catch myself thinking about how far along I will be by this date and wondering if the little chicken is a boy or girl (opinions are definitely split on this issue, except in my household where DH is adament about girl and I lean towards it myself). We've talked about how we want to tell our families (next weekend, in person, we'll head home for a spell if things with the u/s go well).

In other words, I've been making some plans around this baby.

Nevertheless . . . I still get very concerned about what we will see during the u/s. I've read a lot of positive posts lately about women who have had success after loss. And I've read a lot of posts from women who have miscarried. It's a little nerve-wracking. Another internal difference I see with this time versus Chickadee - I avoided all m/c posts like the plague and if I stumbled into one, I felt a lot of fear and hoped to God I wouldn't be next. This time, I feel badly for them, but relieved it's not me. There is a sense of peace from somewhere inside that says it's not me.

I will be 6 weeks tomorrow, which is something of a milestone. A large number of miscarriage take place before 6 weeks. The gross genetic malformations, a lot of blighted ovums . . . so though we aren't out of the woods (after all, Chickadee's pregnancy was over 9 weeks, despite devleopment ceasing at 5 weeks), it is a little milestone that brings a modicum of relief.

But it all comes down to Wednesday. What happens Wednesday will determine a lot of things, and the pressure of that is scary. It's hard to believe that I've only been pregnant for not quite 3 weeks (well, known I was anyway). It feels like forever.

And the thing that nibbles at me and hurts me to think about? I really love being pregnant. I don't care for the symptoms a lot, but I really do love being pregnant and thinking a new life, a new human, our child, who can do amazing things, is currently being knit together inside my body. I like a lot about pregnancy and I want to continue to be pregnant. So I have hope and dread whenever I consider Wednesday. It's becoming more calm, which is nice. Less frantic, though I can't promise it stays that way.

I keep thinking and saying to the little chicken - please be ok in there. Please be growing. We love you and we can't wait to see your little flickering heart on that screen.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Our tax return was large enough that we were able to put a fair amount on the credit card, a fair amount in savings and pay off the student loan (which, really, was going to be paid off soon anyway, but still).

That's $100 a month that can go straight to savings.

Not much, necessarily, but every little bit helps, right? Especially since replacing the bathtub and the flooring has suddenly become far more crucial. And look - a non-pregnancy related post. Aren't you proud?

I dreamt about them last night. I dreamt I had a boy and a girl, and it was utterly panic inducing. It was SO vivid and weird.

Even though I seriously doubt it, it will now be in the back of my mind until the u/s. We have little family history on the maternal side (DH's mom is a twin). While the numbers are in the possible range, they are on the low end. I think the odds are pretty slim to begin with.

Oh, and holy shit, that would be awful. There are days I'm not sure we can afford ONE baby. Two makes me shiver in a not good way.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

^ That is the sound the breath I'd been holding made when I released it in an exhalation of pure relief.

The mw called early (thank you, Lord) and the first thing out of her mouth after verifying it was me on the phone was, "I have good news for you!" I could hear the smile in her voice.

"Ok," I said, holding my breath (which is harder than you might imagine). My entire body is tensed, waiting. Granted she said 'good news' which I knew meant it had to be high enough to give her relief.

"6108!" she crowed.

My whole body relaxed with that sigh of relief and I started shaking. I automatically wrote it down on a post-it, as I've done with every other number. I just stared at it and told her she made my day, that it was higher than I even hoped for.

I am so fucking relieved, I can't begin to tell you.

Which means one more thing.

The thing I dread most.

The ultrasound. It is currently scheduled for next Wednesday at 9:00 am. That is on the cusp of when the mw wanted me to go and when I wanted to go. I wanted to go Friday, but the OB tech will be out of the office Thursday through Tuesday, so it was either this next Wednesday or a whole week later. It might be a wee bit early to see anything then, but I think we will. And I think my sanity would have fractured if it were an entire week later. Monday I might have managed, but that was the limit.

So, again, like with the waves of vomiting that follow a major freakout, the numbers come back to reassure me as well. So far, this has been better than textbook. I'm still terrified about what we will see or not see, but I feel relief again and I feel again, for a moment, that we might see the flicker we're looking for next week.

(oh, and because everyone should know this, after a 20 minute freak out/crying jag last night, I suddenly threw up half my dinner. Into the sink. And my most wonderful husband cleaned it up for me and tried to make me laugh because he is amazing and he loves me, though sometimes I cannot figure out why for the life of me.)

Most of the weekend and today were good. I was feeling optimistic and hopeful and good.

Then I went to get my blood drawn for the third beta.

And my mw said something that caught me very off guard. She was surprised that I had symptoms and said that she felt my levels were too low and wanted me to consider seeing someone else if this came back low.

Only . . . I don't think they are low, and while they are lower than some I've seen, the doubling rate or rise is the important thing. And that was gorgeous - spot on - above average.

She said that I know more about this than she does, so if I felt good, that was probably ok.

But naturally, since then, I've started to worry more and more. The research hasn't changed, but now I'm freaked out about my levels, whereas I really thought going in that it was a mere formality. Now I'm concerned about where it is. Despite the symptoms I've having (which I'm now also freaking out over - are my boobs as sore as they were yesterday, is the nausea as bad . . .), I'm now concerned that they will be too low. And that that will mean there is another problem.

And beyond that, I thought I saw some spotting. So I checked internally, and my cervix felt a little open. So now I'm extra concerned. Even though I shouldn't worry about it, because I've nto been checking it and whatever else.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

As I was reading to DH yesterday about what happens at this stage of development, complete with my usual caveat of 'if all is going well in there', it hit me.

Chickadee's loss wasn't my fault. It wasn't my body's fault.

It was something wrong with Chickadee.

My body did everything it could to make the pregnancy work and give it every chance. That's why I was so ill, why I had so many pregnancy symptoms. My body was pregnant. I was pregnant.

Chickadee stopped growing. Something in the inner layers that should have grown into a neural tube and a heart and organs and everything else? Didn't work. I dunno why, I never will.

But it wasn't me. And the odds are . . . it won't be this little chickie inside me. The odds are good the further we get that it's doing ok in there. For the most part - when sperm and egg meet, they blend and the chain of events is set in motion and it goes and goes. There is no reason to think that it's not going as it does for most other pregnancies in the world.

It should have been obvious before now. But it wasn't. Now I can see it. I still can't guarantee that things are doing what they should in there, but I know once again that my body is doing what it should be and I am being the best incubator I can be.

And I awoke today with a good feeling - how very different than how I began the sixth week of my pregnancy with Chickadee, which was in sheer terror that something was wrong. Well, I was not convinced all was well yesterday (interesting timing - same with Chickadee), but I had lots of symptoms all day to reassure me, including some lovely stretching cramps last night. I never had much cramping with Chickadee, and none like this.

Another milestone done, and it feels good. I am beginning to believe this might be a semi-permanent state, beginning to exhale, and considering a new breath. The fear is still there; the thought of scheduling the ultrasound (the scheduling should happen this week, the u/s itself, next week), is enough to reduce me to a cold sweat and hyperventilation. I am still very much afraid of going in and being told that once again, my body has betrayed us and our dreams are shattered.

But I still feel the little blossom of hope in my heart and still am blessed with a peace when I think on this little chicken. We've been together for a couple of weeks now, and seem to be doing ok.

In other symptoms news, the Violent Vomiting (as it has become capitalized in my thoughts) has ceased over the last two days, to my uneasiness. I know it doesn't guarantee anything, but I'm happier to have the symptom. Fortunately, some lighter nausea made an overnight appearance and joined me this morning, so I'm feeling better about that for the moment. Other than that my boobs are happier unharnessed, but not any less sensitive, full, or achey for their freedom today. My skin, which I had taken secret pleasure in keeping acne free, has gone rogue and is distressingly oily, despite my best attempts to keep it otherwise. I've little doubt that embarrassing teenager like acne is soon to follow. Fatigue is making itself known, and I find myself displeased with how early I tire now. All part of the territory, of course, and of course, I am grateful for the symptoms, but it leaves me with less time to do things I like, and I'd forgotten how severe and crippling it could be.

So, we will celebrate another week down and I will do my best to be positive and a good incubator for the little chickie until we can see what is happening in there for ourselves.

Friday, May 8, 2009

I am feeling like a wreck today. Terrible mood swings all over the place, super emotional, on the verge of tears.

I'm told this is normal, though I don't recall this with the other pregnancies (maybe I should just take it as a good sign). I know it's also that I was reading through the Mayo Clinic Guide to Pregnancy last night.

It talked about the development that should be happening now as I enter 5 weeks/week 6. It talked about all the layers - what became the forming placenta, the amniotic sac, the layers that form the embryo and what each layer becomes. It said that around 21 -22 dpo, a rudimentary hearts starts beating and moving blood through the primative cardiovascular center and later this week other organs, including the brain start developing. All I could think was - that's Saturday. Saturday is 21 dpo. That's tomorrow. This is when Chickadee stopped growing. That heart never formed and nothing happened and I walked around thinking I was pregnant for four more weeks.

I'm so scared that there is nothing happening in there right now. It brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. This thing I have no control over is happening right now - a heart is forming and preparing to beat - or it's not. I don't know if I can face it again. I don't know if I can handle another loss. So far, everything has been perfect, even better than perfect. But all I can do is think about this little chicken's heart and pray it starts beating.

I feel like I'm going slowly insane. Terrified one moment, happy the next. On the verge of big tears one moment, looking at cute clothes the next. I'm afraid to talk too much about the baby, like I might jinx everything. I make sex predictions, then fear I've ruined it all. I vomit and feel relieved and remember all the symptoms meant nothing before. I feel only vaguely nauseated and instead of being relieved, I feel the cold clutch of fear around my heart. So overwhelming. I wish I could just go to bed and be woken up after the u/s in two weeks to be told what has happened.

Thursday, May 7, 2009

He must be one of the most patient men on earth. He has, after all, been married to me for over three and a half years, and survived a two and a half year engagement prior to that. I don't know that I've given him enough credit for how supportive and sweet he's been throughout our ttc and pregnancy issues.

Not only was he amazing last night when he could have been sleeping, but he was an angel today. When I called him to ask for my lunch, he asked how I was feeling and I admitted I felt like crap and didn't really want to eat. I told him that protein sounded good, but I was at a loss as to what to get, as all I could think of near us was fast food and I knew that was a bad idea.

He reminded me that the deli was still open and offered to go get a sandwich. Which, btw, is in the exact opposite direction of me. He was infinitely patient when I got a little teary and unable to predict what would be most gentle on my stomach and said he'd see what looked good. He got me a turkey sandwich on whole grain, and asked them to heat it up so I didn't have to worry about listeria (not that I do).

Bless him.

And it helped a lot. Much of the afternoon was better, though I am liable to keel over and sleep for days at any second. Dinner is worrying me a bit, but meh. I'll either be sick or I won't.

The night was awful. Approached the night of food poisoning for awfulness, but seeing as how it only lasted an hour, isn't quite there.

I'll spare you the details, and just say, an hour of vomiting up everything I'd eaten yesterday afternoon and evening, some of it through my nose (which, God, I didn't know was possible, and was terrible and painful). . . all I can say is that my husband is the most incredible man. Rubbing my back, bringing me cool wet washcloths, cold Sprite Zero, and letting me eat crackers in bed.

The rest of the night was not great. I got very little sleep, as the nausea persisted and my stomach and back are so sore. I woke up and just want to curl up in a little ball of misery. Headachey, exhausted, nauseated. But the good news is that I was able to brush my teeth. Small blessings, I guess.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

I was so relieved and over the moon last night I didn't talk more in depth about what this number means. So let me do that now, while I am a bit more calm.

It's a really good thing. Let me say that unequivocally and upfront. Because I may be a little negative in a moment, but this beta is a good thing and has made me feel a hundred times better about this pregnancy.

The doubling rate 37.3 hours. A normal doubling rate is 48-72 hours. Being above that is fine in most cases. Too high could be an issue, but this is not too high. It's fast, but the numbers themselves are in the normal range. This is terrific news.

This also means that the chance that this is ectopic dropped significantly. Mind you, I'd felt pretty good between the early positive, the darkening hpt's, and the uterine cramping I'd been feeling. But only a small number of ectopic pregnancies experience a normal rising pattern. It's not wholly off the table, but it's small odds now. That is terrific news.

However, betas can only tell you so much. What it tells us is that things are progessing well to date. While having a beta in a certain range gives you good odds of continuing a pregnancy, this doesn't guarantee me that I will go in and see a h/b on an ultrasound or hold a baby in my arms in January.

The initial beta with Chickadee looked great too. It was drawn right around the time Chickadee stopped developing. In fact, that happened over the next fews days in that pregnancy. My body continued producing hcg for weeks after. I'm very scared of that happening again. We won't know until we have the u/s how things will go. Even then, it's not a guarantee.

So while I feel optimistic about this pregnancy for the first time - and in fact, said to both my husband and mother that I felt for the first time like we might go in for the u/s and might see a h/b - it's still a very tempered, very cautious optimism. This is one milestone passed - but a big one is looming. I am far more relaxed and happy now, but I am not basking in the euphoria of knowing all is well. I hope I will be in a few weeks, but for now, still uncertain and nervous - just less so.

And that brings us on to topic 2 - Morning sickness.

I have thrown up more times in the 9 days of this pregnancy than I have in the last three pregnancies combined.

Throwing up is something I despise and avoid at all costs. I hate it - it's my nightmare illness. Give me broken bones, aches and pains, nearly anything but a vomit-related ailment. So this is miserable anyway.

Last night though - dear God in heaven. It was bad. After a day of nervous nausea and little food, I was ready to eat. So I did. It was ok. I was queasy most of the night, but totally manageable. But then. Then. I was constipated. So I drank Kal's Shit Cocktail, which generally works everytime.

Lord was it tough to drink. And it made me very queasy. But it worked! And then I went to bed.

And was awoken by sharp cramping (turned out it was intestinal) and waves of nausea and heartburn. Went to the bathroom and didn't vomit for 10 minutes, so I went back to bed and took 2 Tums. Half an hour later, I was dealing with the aftermath of antacid and acid in my throat and a raging headache. I moaned pitifully until DH woke up and got me Tylenol and water, which took care of the headache. I then slept on my stomach, which helped with the heartburn.

Woke up at the normal time and was very queasy because of that awful aftertaste of chalk and acid in my throat. I knew brushing my teeth would be a challenge. And in fact, I started gagging immediately, and retching and finally full on vomiting, which was a feat of some excellence, considering my body had to extract stuff from my intestines to throw up.

This went on for 20 minutes of hellish retching, heaving, crying, gagging and shakiness. But at least the awful aftertaste was gone.

I will welcome every single moment of vomiting if it means a healthy babe in my arms. But having been really sick before and losing the baby, I'm not sure it means that. I don't want to complain when we've been blessed and are lucky, but it's hard to tolerate this without knowing the outcome. I keep trying to tell myself it's positive, but . . . man, there is little that is worse to me in the world than vomiting.

And I've been queasy all day. I needed protein, so I settled for Taco Bell (options were severely limited). I got a bean burrito (as yet uneaten) and 2 chicken soft tacos, plain. The first was heavenly and I wolfed it down. The second may have been a mistake, but at least I'm less nauseated than I was. For now.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

After ranting and raving and losing my shit for awhile, I had a sudden sense of peace fall over me. I was able to concentrate on work and just had this feeling that I needed to have faith in faith, and not faith in numbers. Just believe that everything is ok.

It was nice. It lasted through the point I expected them to call (as the birth center closes at 4), and I resigned myself to waiting until tomorrow to hear back. DH was impressed at my resignation, but I just felt calm.

And then, out of nowhere, the phone rang and it was my mw. Well, technically, it was the other midwife who I had nasty thoughts about. I take a few of them back, as she stayed late to get the result and call me.

290

Two fucking hundred and fucking ninety.

Holy shit y'all. It more than doubled - that is a doubling rate of 37.3 hours.

I'm pregnant. And so far - it's perfect. Right on track in the median range for betabase. I am so fucking relieved, I am near tears.

All day long, I've been one long tense bundle of nerves, willing my phone to ring and for the news to be good.

I can't concentrate, I can't focus . . . I have had a strong desire to crawl under my desk and whimper until the phone rings.

I am seriously stressed out.

The MW said that the results would be back by 1:00 pm, but to give it at least another hour in case they are backed up. When there was no phone call by 2:01 pm, I gave in. I meant to wait until 2:00 pm, but visions of bad news and breaking it to me gently and the overwhelming nervous nausea I've had all day long overrode courtesy and I called the birth center.

One of the other midwives answered. The one I dislike. Blah. She informs me that the fax machine is not working properly, so they haven't gotten all the results in and she is having to call the labs and ask for each result to be re-faxed or given over the phone and she hasn't received mine yet. But they'll call when they do!

For fuck's sake. Patience has never been one of my virtues, and in this case, it goes straight past nerve-wracking into fucking tortorous and I would probably trade state secrets for my damned beta results.

I fucking need to know. Does this shit happen? Yeah, it does. Can I do anything about it? Nope. Is this driving me off the deep end? Only about 3 hours ago.

Monday, May 4, 2009

I apologize. I can't imagine this is any more fun to read than it is to experience and I know my friends/fam/husband are tired of it. The thing is, I am too. I find it exhausting.

Yesterday was a pretty good day. I was sleepy and tired and napped. I had sore boobs and I had to pee at least every 3 hours, if not oftener. That's ridiculous for me. Light pulling cramps. Massive 0-60 FEED ME NOW hunger and a little nausea.

I pulled out some pregnancy books and flipepd through them. I talked about the baby. I looked at things like dates when I would be out of the first tri. I joked with DH that craving sweets means a girl.

I took a digital that popped up 'Pregnant' in about 40 seconds. I cracked it open and the blue lines were dark and lovely. I took a FR and it was equally dark between control and test line. I took a cheapie and it was the darkest one yet. Oh, did I mention I did this with second morning urine that was pale yellow, and therefore not particularly concentrated?

All of that left me feeling pretty good, pretty certain that when I go in this afternoon, the beta will come back over 100. I've even dared to believe it might be a perfect doubling rate and hit 150.

And this morning. . .

I didn't get up to pee at 4 am as I've been doing. My boobs are not so tender. I mean, they are a little sensitive if you press them in the right spot, but they aren't sore and achey like they were all day yesterday.

Mind you, I know symptoms come and go and I pretty much seem to have either nausea or sore boobs, but not both. And nausea I have aplenty today. The feeling that my teeth were not clean made me queasy. I gagged while brushing my teeth but stopped short of vomiting (my teeth still didn't feel clean after five minutes of brushing). I had to choke down a muffin amidst queasiness and vague unsettled feelings that it wasn't a good idea. And truly, I've been having unpleasant rumblings and waves of nausea and have swallowed back lumps more than once already today. I'm still cramping - more pulling type sensations again.

And yet, I'm still terrified of going in, like my midwife will look at me and shake her head and say 'What on earth are you doing back? You clearly aren't pregnant.' I'm terrified that the beta will have gone up only slightly. I know it has to be over 30 to trigger a positive OPK, but I'm afraid that's it. I'm afraid the baby has already stopped developing and I'll either bleed soon or just continue unaware and pregnant until the u/s shows an empty uterus.

Right now, it's a choking sort of fear (which doesn't go well with the m/s). I'm so hopeful this is it and so afraid to feel any connection to this pregnancy, to this baby. We haven't named it yet, I'm too afraid. I'm so terrified history will repeat again and I will get bad news after feeling good about this one.

I don't know what will ease it or make it better. I know everything logically, but this is pure emotion. It isn't logical. I just keep praying every day - Lord God, you made the heavens and the earth. You made me and you made this baby and you alone can protect us both. Please God protect this child in my womb, let this be our healthy child, that grows safely in my womb and that we hold in our arms and raise in love to know you. Please God, don't take this one away from me too - you gave us this gift, please watch over us. Please God, fill me with peace and reassurance, show me that all is well, give me faith when I have none.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

So much so that I am changing liners and underwear with a frequency which vaguely disturbs me. This is not something that happened in my other pregnancies and while I welcome the 'snail trail' as a symptom of pregnancy that is common and blissfully normal, it is thoroughly annoying.

Not least because I still think it's a sign I'm spotting or getting my period. I have to curtail the urge to run to the bathroom when I get a new gush of wetness and check. Hell, I have to curtail the urge to reach down my pants and check. I am still carefully inspecting the toilet paper, which has remained color free thankfully. It's all I can do not to shove my fingers up my vag to check my cervix and see if there is any internal spotting.

But since I am trying to live as fear free as possible and not do things that will make the ever-present paranoia worse, I try hard to avoid internal checks - which could lead to paranoia about the state of my cervix and could create the situation I'm so concerned about (ie, spotting from a disrupted cervix).

Saturday, May 2, 2009

This is another milestone we can check off. It seems silly, especially when I'm the earliest tester known to man, but to make it out of the first month and into the 4 week/week 5 mark feels like a small victory. We now have an officially missed period and have made it into week 5. YAY!

We're going out to celebrate with a nice dinner tonight. I feel sort of nervous about this, because we did the same with Chickadee, and it's SO early and I'm fearful. But . . . we have no reason think this one won't be our healthy baby. Symptoms are still present, though the nausea has calmed down a lot (maybe I've been getting enough sleep?), and we're moving ahead.

Here is to a reason to celebrate! We'll hope that Tuesday's numbers give us a reason to go get celebratory ice cream cones.

Friday, May 1, 2009

Sorry if this is muffled, but my head is remaining firmly face down on my desk.

I am in FAIL mode.

First - someone made a bet that I wouldn't be unable to stop myself from peeing on a stick yesterday morning. Not only did I NOT temp, I did NOT pee on a stick (or in a cup, like a cheater. I peed in the toilet like a big girl.).

I was so proud.

Naturally, I took a test when I got home. In the interests of science, of course. I figured out that the digitals OPKs have a higher sensitivity than the internet cheapies - meaning it takes more lh (or in this case, hcg) to trigger a positive result. I knew already I had a level of 25. So if the digital was positive, that would mean my hcg was up too.

(it was positive).

Being good this morning, I did not temp or pee again. I told myself I wouldn't pee on a stick tonight.

I even went so far as to drink extra water this afternoon and go pee at 4 pm. Cause see, we normally leave by 5:30 and get home and then I pee in a cup. This way, the urine wouldn't be concentrated enough, so it would be futile to pee on a stick (I know, I know, it's futile anyway, as it will say pregnant, at least for the next couple of days, even if all hcg stopped this instant).

Only now did I remember that DH is working late tonight. So all my plans - for naught. I'm still going to try really hard to wait (I'm certain I will take another test before Monday's beta), but I didn't do so well at making it harder for myself.

Pleased to meet you. But, uh, forgive me if I don't shake hands with you right now - swine flu, and all. Sure you understand. And, actually, would you mind just stepping back another foot or so? Thanks.

Chicken Little is in full mode inside my head, squawking and flapping about and running around like mad. I look at my beta, right on target, just where I wanted (even though it doesn't much matter, as the doubling is the important thing and I know that), and think - but why isn't it higher? If I got a faint line on a less-sensitive test (ignoring the no line on the clinically sensitive test), then shouldn't it be higher? Why wasn't it higher? I saw other people who had b/w done on 11 dpo and theirs was way higher than that. How come? - As you see, Chicken Little completely ignores the central point that half of pregnant women who test at 11 dpo don't have enough hcg to even trigger a faint positive on a test, so I'm doing just fine to get a clear positive.

And then there are the symptoms. Chicken Little has me poking my boobs to see how sore they are and regretting that I didn't vomit into the sink this morning. Never mind that the boob soreness comes and goes throughout the day and my nipples are visibly more prominent and darker. Never mind that I don't like vomiting and have developed quite the willpower to avoid it over the course of my life. No no. Chicken Little says that my progesterone may be low, since I stopped taking the Vitex, which should have been boosting it. And I didn't have my progesterone checked and maybe I should have, because what if it is too low and I start to miscarry? I could have gotten a progesterone rx and maybe stopped it. Maybe I should call back and ask for additional bloodwork. - As you see, Chicken Little is driving me insane. I had a conversation with myself in which I said, "Self. Come on now. You know better than this. Symptoms come and go. They are not going to be exactly the same everyday, you know. And Self, do you feel the same way every day when you aren't pregnant? No! Some days you feel hungry or tired or happy or sad. Pregnancy is the same way and you know it!"

It doesn't much seem to matter. I tell myself everything I know and have repeatedly said to others. It makes very little difference. Chicken Little is still in there, flapping around. It's becoming quite exhausting. I find myself arguing with myself for extended periods of time. I find myself unable to relax or find much pleasure or joy in this. I hear Chicken Little saying, "It's still too early and so much can go wrong, and I'll relax when my period is late (that's today, btw) and when I get to 4 weeks, after the next beta comes back on schedule, after 5 weeks, after 6 weeks, after a h/b, after 9 weeks . . ." The question is obvious - will I ever relax into this and enjoy it?

I catch myself referring to the pregnancy, not the baby, as if that will provide some detachment should I lose this one too. I find myself not wanting to think about when the big u/s will be or talk about the edd or think about buying maternity clothes or whether it's a boy or girl.

Overall, I have a good instinctual feeling about this pregnancy that I didn't have with the other two. It feels good, despite my constant worrying. But you know me, not so good with the hoping, this one. I read and repeat the Success After Loss mantras that I saved long ago. I repeat to myself the things I've said many times to others and which I know to be true myself - you cannot shake a good pregnancy, and you cannot keep a bad pregnancy. Nothing I can do right now can change the course of this pregnancy. Worrying will not change the outcome of this pregnancy. What will be, will be. Even with my history, the odds are on my side (although . . . I've always been on the wrong side of the odds - a .04 % chance of a cervical ectopic, ffs). My previous history doesn't determine the success of this pregnancy. We will have the child we are supposed to have.

It buys me limited time only. Chicken Little is still in there . . .

(And please, please don't tell me not to worry. It's not that simple. If I could turn it off, I would. I'm driving myself, my husband, my mother, my friends crazy with this. There isn't an off switch.)

"Now Rachel's weeping for the children she thought she could not bear, and she bears a sorrow that she cannot hide. And she wishes she was with them; she looks and they're not there. It seems that love comes for just a moment and it passes on by.And her sky is just a bandit swinging at the end of a hangman's noose, because he stole the moon and must be made to pay for it. And her friends say, 'My, that's tragic.' And she says, 'Especially for the moon.'And this is the world, as best as I can remember it."